


An Interesting Ride

by NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Short, Tickle Fights, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 07:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5617999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mariana sees something a bit interesting on the way to work, and can't help being intrigued and a bit alarmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Interesting Ride

**Author's Note:**

> on tumblr at http://not-a-space-alien.tumblr.com/post/129322501510/right-i-am-yet-to-binge-read-through-your-fics-so

Mariana was a psychic.

Well, she was not _quite_ as psychic as genuine witches like Anathema.  But she was low-level psychic, like many people unknowingly are, enough that she could see certain things many people couldn’t.

For example, right now she could see the radiant light rolling off the back of the man next to her, which fell in sheets and ran into the shape of beautiful wings streaming out behind him.  She had seen this a few times before, rarely, but she had since figured out it meant that the individual in question was an angel.

This particular angel seemed engrossed in a novel, which confirmed her suspicions that angels surely must have hobbies as humans do, which was amusing to say the least.  She had never actually approached an angel, though, or talked to one.  It seemed rude.

The angel was standing in the crowded car with his back to the wall; Mary could see that the people around him would shrink away from the brush of his wings as the car swayed a bit too much, as they would from someone’s shoulder, but none of them really noticed his wings, and it seemed like they phased in and out of solidity with how much he was paying attention to them.

She desperately wanted to talk him, but the tube was crowded, and she knew he would deny having them in front of all these people, who might not even be able to see them if they were paying very close attention.  She really wanted to ask exactly what life was like as an angel.  Is it very hard to keep from knocking things over with your wings? she would ask, for example.  His wings were very big, and he had been moving carefully not to let them hit into anyone else.

For now, she was content to just sit and watch him, sneaking glances up from her own book.  She need not have been so cautious, though: he was far too lost in his book to notice her staring.

She felt safe with him, there, as some kind of reminder that Good existed in the world.

She felt safe, that is, until the next tram stop, and another figure got on.  This one was dressed in a smart black suit, its eyes hidden by dark glasses, and it also had wings sprouting from its back, but these ones were dark like the void of a starless night sky.  His aura radiated evil, and she knew even though she had never seen one before:  This must be what a demon looks like.

She rustled in her seat, unsure of what to do as the carriage doors closed and the train started to haul itself along the rails.  The angel continued reading, taking no notice.

The demon positioned itself along the front wall of the car, its wings against the wall, and staggered wildly against a pole as the train rounded a bend.  Good God, was it– _drunk?_

She turned to look at the angel, panic mounting inside her.  The demon was staring directly at the bespectacled, tartan-clad man.

An angel wouldn’t let a fight break out in the middle of a crowded subway, would he?  Not with all these people around!  Surely he’d try and fight the demon somewhere less likely to result in civilian casualties!  Right?  Unless he had no time and the demon refused to _let_ him…

The demon’s chest was heaving, as if giggling quietly, and it suddenly straightened up, clutching the pole with both hands, and faced the door, pointedly not looking at the angel.  And Mary watched as thin tendrils of dark, pulsing energy emerged from its back, black tentacles snaking invisibly between the other passengers expertly, not even brushing their shoulders, to reach the angel.

One of them prodded the angel directly at the base of his wings,* and he gave a small started noise, as though someone had slapped his ass, and the black tendrils instantaneously retracted back into the demon, who looked nonchalantly out the window.

* * *

*Mary had no way of knowing this, but the downy feathers at the base of an angel’s or demon’s wings are very sensitive and, thus, extremely ticklish.

* * *

The angel raised his head to examine the other passengers, caught sight of the demon, then promptly stuck his nose back in his book, watching the other supernatural being out of his peripheral vision, but pretending like he wasn’t.  A bundle of ephemeral white tentacles emerged from his back and weaved cautiously through the other passengers, until they reached the demon.

One of them buried itself in the base of the demon’s wings, and the demon let out a breath and then got a look of concentration on its face as the tentacle ruffled its feathers, its face growing redder and redder as though it were trying to suppress laughter.

Finally, the demon let out an extremely loud and long cough, startling the other passengers, who had been sitting quietly throughout this whole thing, and angel’s extensions zipped back to him like a tape measure finally released.

They had reached the next stop.  Mary contemplated getting off, but she was still trying to process what she was seeing.  The angel pointedly looked at the demon, and stepped backwards, out of the car and onto the platform.

The demon waded quickly through all the passengers after the angel, and dived onto the platform just before the doors closed.  Well, _most_ of him dived onto the platform.

He gave a tug, but the car doors had _schoop_ ed shut directly on his wing.  It was the angel’s turn to try not to burst into laughter.

“Aziraphale,” she heard the demon’s muffled voice say as the train began to start up again.  “Aziraphale, this isn’t funny!” it said, as it hopped along, being dragged by the train, but the fact that the angel had given up and was doubled over in laughter indicated otherwise.  



End file.
